A Mother's Courage (7 page)

Nancy shook her head vehemently. 'I'll not
sleep in there. I'm scared.'

'Very well, then I'll sleep in the nursery with
the children. Hold Beth for me while I get out of
bed. You shall sleep in here tonight, Nancy. I will
take your bed and I will prove to you that it was
just a bad dream.'

Eloise put the children back in their respective
cots. Then she went over to the fireplace and, on
discovering a few glowing embers, she used the
bellows to get the fire going again. With a
satisfying blaze warming the room and creating
a comforting circle of light, Eloise climbed into
the bed that Nancy had recently vacated and she
lay down to sleep feeling much happier now that
she was in the same room as Joss and Beth. She
smiled to herself as she thought of Nancy's vivid
imagination and the enormously tall ghost with
flaming eyes.

She must have fallen into a deep sleep for
when she was awakened by a soft shuffling
sound, Eloise sat bolt upright. In the faint glow of
the dying fire, she saw something that made her
gasp with fright. Leaning over Beth's cot was a
tall figure dressed in a flowing white robe. Eloise
stuffed her hand in her mouth to stifle a scream.

Without stopping to think, Eloise took a flying
leap off the bed and dived across the floor with
the ferocity of a female tiger protecting her
young. 'Go away,' she screamed. 'Leave my
babies alone.'

With a strangled cry, the woman crumpled to
the floor, covering her head with her arms as if to
ward off a rain of blows. Eloise stopped short,
staring at the cowering figure in a mixture of
shock and dismay.

'Don't hurt me, missis.' The muffled voice
sounded oddly childlike and the woman was
trembling violently.

Eloise laid a tentative hand on her shoulder.
'I won't hurt you. Get up and let me see your
face.'

Obediently, the woman rose slowly but she
backed away from Eloise, keeping her head
bowed. Although the poor creature was head
and shoulders taller than she, Eloise was oddly
touched by her obvious distress. Now that she
knew her children were safe her heart had ceased
to thud painfully against her ribs and she was
able to think rationally. 'Are you a servant in this
house?'

The woman shook her head.

'Then who are you? What are you doing here?'

Staring down at her bare feet, the woman began
to weep. 'I did no wrong. Don't punish me.'

'Sit down, please.' Eloise pulled up a chair,
hoping that the distressed creature would sit
before she collapsed onto the floor. 'Don't be
frightened. No one is going to harm you. Won't
you at least tell me your name?'

'My baby,' the woman whimpered, burying
her face in her hands. 'I came to find my baby. I
heard her crying, I know I did.'

Realising that the woman was past reasoning,
Eloise approached her cautiously. She took her
gently by the hand and led her to the chair. 'I am
sorry, but that is my baby, not yours.'

'N-not mine? But I heard a baby crying.'

'The baby you heard is mine. Her name is
Elizabeth, but we always call her Beth, and my
son Joseph is sleeping in the other cot. We call
him Joss and my name is Eloise. What do they
call you?'

'Ada, that's what she calls me.'

'And who is that, Ada?'

'Miss Joan. She'll be cross with me and beat
me. You won't tell her that you saw me, will you?
I just wanted to see my baby, but you say she's
not here.'

Eloise slipped her arm round Ada's thin
shoulders. 'No, dear. Your baby is not here. I am
so sorry.'

'I'll go now,' Ada said, rising unsteadily to her
feet. She bent her head to peer into Eloise's face.
'I like you.'

'And I like you too,' Eloise said gently. Even in
the dim light she could see that Ada's face was
smooth and unlined like that of a young child,
although she was clearly an adult and could
have been any age from twenty to forty. 'Shall I
take you back to your room, Ada?'

'N-no, missis. I'll get a whipping if she finds
out I've been wandering again. I'm not supposed
to wander. They mustn't see me.'

'Who mustn't see you?'

'The others. The servants and the other people
in the house. I have to stay in my room.'

'All right,' Eloise said slowly, not wanting to
alarm her further. 'But I still think I should see
you safely to your room and make sure you are
tucked up in bed. Shall I do that, Ada?'

As trusting as a small child, Ada held out her
hand for Eloise to hold. 'My mama used to put
me to bed. She's dead, you know; that's why I
had to come to live with Miss Joan.' Ada
clamped her hand over her mouth. 'I shouldn't
have told you that.'

Eloise led her to the door. 'I won't tell a soul.'

Seemingly satisfied with this, Ada allowed
Eloise to accompany her along the corridor and
up the staircase to the servants' quarters on the
top floor. At the very far end of a long narrow
passage, Ada opened a door that led into another
and even narrower passage. It was obvious from
the musty smell and the mesh of cobwebs
dangling from the ceiling that this part of the
house was little used. It was so dark that Eloise
could only just see the pale glimmer of Ada's
white nightgown as she blundered onwards,
seemingly oblivious to the claustrophobic
atmosphere. When they finally came to a halt,
Eloise thought at first that Ada was kept hidden
away in some sort of garret, but on entering the
room she was amazed to discover a large airy
space. Thick pads of snow covered the roof
windows, gleaming palely in the light of several
oil lamps, and a fire burned in the grate behind a
brass nursery fireguard. A large wooden rocking
horse stood in the middle of the floor, and the
stark white walls were adorned with what
appeared to be pages torn from a scrap book. In
one corner stood an iron bedstead covered with
a bright patchwork quilt, and rag dolls with
painted smiles on their faces lay on the rumpled
pillow. The bare floorboards were dotted with
brightly coloured rugs and littered with
children's books.

Ada loped over to the bed and leapt upon it,
scooping up an armful of dolls and cuddling
them to her flat chest. 'Mine,' she said, smiling
for the first time. 'I made them all, as I made the
baby that grew in my tummy.' Her face
crumpled and tears spilled from her pale eyes.
'They took her away from me. I keep looking for
her but I can't find her.'

Touched beyond measure by this simple child-woman,
Eloise went to put her arms around Ada
and she gave her a hug. 'I am so sorry, my dear.
That must have been dreadful for you.'

Ada wiped her nose on the sleeve of her
cambric nightgown. 'They say she died, but I
don't believe them. My mama died and she was
cold and stiff, but my baby was soft and warm
and she had blue eyes, like me. I'll find her one
day, I will.'

'I'm sure you will, but I think you ought to get
into bed now and try to sleep.' Eloise pulled back
the coverlet and held it while Ada obligingly
snuggled down between the sheets. It was like
dealing with Joss, Eloise thought sadly as she
bent down to kiss Ada on the forehead. 'Goodnight,
my dear. Sleep tight – don't let the bed
bugs bite.' It was a silly saying from her earliest
memories of childhood, but it seemed appropriate
and it drew a responsive chuckle from
Ada, who curled up with an armful of dollies
and closed her eyes.

Eloise crept out of this strange other world and
closed the door softly behind her. It was bitterly
cold on the top floor and her thin nightgown felt
like ice as it touched her bare skin. She was
terrified of losing her way in the dark, but some
deep instinct and a desperate need to return to
her children guided her feet through the maze of
corridors as she hurried back to the nursery.
After making certain that Joss and Beth were
sleeping peacefully, Eloise crawled into bed, but
she could not relax. She was chilled to the bone,
and as she lay there shivering her mind was
filled with questions. Who was Ada? Why would
Joan Braithwaite want to keep her hidden from
sight? Obviously the servants had a vague
knowledge of Ada's existence, but both Mabel
and Nancy seemed to think of her as a ghost
rather than as a flesh and blood being. Eloise was
intrigued and curious but also saddened to think
that such a simple soul could be treated with
such callous •indifference. There was little she
could do about it, but she knew she would not be
able to rest until she had discovered the dark
secret which kept poor Ada a virtual prisoner. Of
one thing she was certain: the person who had all
the answers was the formidable Joan.

Next morning Eloise was already up, dressed
and had given Beth her morning feed when
Mabel arrived with a jug of rapidly cooling water
for the washbowl and a scuttle filled with coal for
the fire. 'Goodness me, missis. You never slept in
here, did you? What will Miss Joan say?'

Eloise patted Beth's tiny back as she lay over
her shoulder. 'Miss Joan won't know and I doubt
if she would care. Nancy had a bad dream and so
I allowed her to sleep in my room. Anyway, I
prefer to be in here with my children.'

Mabel put the jug down on the washstand.
'She won't like it, missis. I can tell you that for
nowt.' She hefted the scuttle over to the fireplace
and went down on her knees, energetically
riddling the cinders. 'And I almost forgot, but
Miss Joan told me to tell you that breakfast is
served and you must go down to the dining
room right away.'

'I'd rather take my meals here in the nursery
with the children. You can tell her that when you
go downstairs, Mabel.' Eloise laid Beth on the
bed while she turned her attention to Joss, who
was not yet dressed and was toddling around the
room exploring his unfamiliar surroundings.

Mabel shook her head. 'I doubt if she'll allow
it. She's a right stickler for rules is Miss Joan.'

'And my children come first,' Eloise said
firmly. 'If you're too scared to tell her, then I'll do
it myself.'

Mabel answered by ducking her head down
and sweeping the ash into a dustpan. Eloise
resigned herself to another battle with Miss Joan.
Leaving Joss and Beth with Nancy, who had
finally put in an appearance still slightly bleary eyed
with sleep, Eloise went downstairs to face
her mother-in-law and Joan in the dining room.

'You're late,' Hilda snapped. 'I've told
Hopkins to take the food back to the kitchen.
You'll have to eat in there with the servants if
you can't be bothered to keep to proper mealtimes.'

Joan looked up from buttering a slice of toast.
'I warned you, young lady. Don't say as how you
weren't warned.'

Eloise faced them with her hands clasped
firmly in front of her. 'I came to tell you that I
would prefer to eat in the nursery with my
children.'

'What you would prefer is neither here nor
there,' Hilda said grimly. 'Children eat in the
nursery and grownups eat in the dining room.'

'Yes,' Joan added with a spiteful sneer. 'If you
want to be treated as a member of this family
then you will abide by the rules, Ellen.'

'My name is not Ellen. It is Eloise and my son's
name is Joseph, not Ronald.' She had not meant
to raise her voice, but she was furious with these
two hard-faced women who pretended to have
loved Ronnie. She doubted if they knew the
meaning of the word.

Joan rose to her feet and her cat-like eyes
blazed with malice. 'You will be called whatever
we choose to call you, lady. And you will learn
manners while you are living here under my
sister's roof. Your presence will be tolerated even
if it isn't welcome, but you will do as you are
told.'

'I am not a child, Joan Braithwaite,' Eloise said
in a low voice. 'Nor am I a simple-minded soul
who can be locked up in an attic room and kept
out of sight.'

Joan collapsed back onto her seat and her pale
face flushed wine red and then paled to ashen.
'You've been snooping, you little viper.' She
turned to her sister. 'You heard how she spoke to
me, Hilda. Say summat, for pity's sake.'

Hilda shook her head and her lips twisted into
a snarl. 'I told you it would come out sooner or
later, Joan.' She rose from the table. 'It's your
mess, sister. You clean it up.' She stalked
towards the door, but as she passed Eloise she
paused and her voice lowered to a hiss. 'And you
will mind your manners, Ellen, or you will find
yourself turned out on the street without a penny
to your name. It's a long walk to Africa.' She
slammed out of the dining room.

'You little bitch,' Joan snarled. 'See what
you've done. Why did you have to come here
and stick your nose into our business?'

'It was not from choice,' Eloise retorted angrily.

'No, I don't doubt that. Ever since you set foot
over the threshold, you've made it plain that you
consider us to be beneath you. Well, a fine family
you come from, I must say. They couldn't wait to
be rid of you.'

'That is not how it was. Don't you dare criticise
my parents.' Eloise drew a deep breath.
Controlling her temper with difficulty, she
realised that Joan had skilfully manoeuvred the
conversation away from herself. 'But we weren't
talking about my family, were we? I'm not
surprised that you want to conceal the fact that
you have a poor soul locked away upstairs and
that you mistreat her.'

Joan rose slowly from the table and she
advanced on Eloise with a martial gleam in her
eyes. 'You don't know what you're talking about.'

'Then tell me why you have Ada shut away
like a lunatic, when she is obviously no danger to
anyone.' Eloise held her ground. She was a little
scared of Joan, but she was also extremely angry.
She met Joan's basilisk stare without blinking,
even though inside she was quaking. 'Well?
What do you say to that?'

'I say that you are a meddling little busybody
who ought to keep out of other folks' business.
But I'll tell you this for nowt, Ellen. That creature
is my cousin, Ada Braithwaite, who was left
orphaned some years ago and who would have
been locked up in a madhouse if I and my sister
had not taken her in.'

Eloise took a step backwards as Joan leaned so
close to her that she could feel her hot breath on
her cheek. 'I – I'm sure she is no danger to
anyone.'

'So you think, lady. Well, let me tell you I have
the scars to prove it, when all I have ever shown
her is kindness. Don't be fooled by our Ada. She
can be meek and mild as anything one moment,
and a raving madwoman the next.'

'She said you beat her.'

'And you would take the word of a lunatic
above mine?' Joan tossed her head and her lips
curled in a sardonic smile. 'Mind your own
business, Ellen. And don't meddle in matters
that do not concern you. Now, go to the kitchen
and see if Cook has saved you some breakfast. If
not, you'll have to go hungry until dinner time,
which is served prompt at midday. Anyway, I
have better things to do than to stand round
wasting my breath on the likes of you.' With that,
Joan walked away with a swish of starched
petticoats, leaving Eloise standing alone in the
dining room, staring after her. Somehow she did
not quite believe Joan's story. She could not put
her finger on it, but there was something in it that
did not ring quite true. That Ada was disturbed
was obvious, and that she had the mind of a child
was also apparent, but Eloise could not believe
that Ada was a violent lunatic.